


Reignite

by downpourcity



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: AU, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-10
Updated: 2017-01-11
Packaged: 2018-09-16 14:16:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,396
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9275738
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/downpourcity/pseuds/downpourcity
Summary: Rain in a ravine.





	1. Chapter 1

**Flash**. The wind howled high above. **Flash.** A long dead train whistle. **Flash.** Rain littered about like fresh tears, hanging in the balance. Mud strewn with blood. Fear. ** _Flash_** , Like a camera. Striking the moment in it's grasp, taking that moment and freeze framing it. Every figure, every facial expression, even the misery. Perfectly. A time capsule. A twisted, time capsule. To whomever saw it, would be captivated and happy that in that moment, they did not linger there. That that moment took place, in a far far away time, a moment where they could look forward rather than back, and not be afraid for their next steps.

Those tears, _oh_ how they stung, they bit and they scrapped harder than any knife. How bitter they were on her tongue, how they made her curse until blood flowed from her mouth mixing with the mud around her. She clawed and clawed and clawed, only moving inches. She didn't feel helpless, she already knew it was over, she already knew that in these moments, she would be captured in a forever photograph. That her body would lay lifeless, that everything she ever had before would be only a memory, encapsulated in someone else's mind. That all that would be left, would be a lifeless body and that every feeling she had ever felt would be gone. It would be as if a candle had flickered out, that door would close, that a book would lose all of it's words.

 _That every thing she ever believed in and fought for, would die alongside her._

Even as she felt herself failing, she gave everything for this one, important, moment. To gaze upon the face of the person she loved. To see what she would leave behind, and to see the face of the person that would be distorted into tears for the millionth time. The person who's life was so stricken with misfortune and disappointment, and you, the one she loved, would be gone. That she, would be the _disappointment_ , that nothing could possibly stop the inevitable. Death would take her soon, and all she had left was this. This small picture, of a smiling woman, a woman she loved to hold to her chest, and comfort and trusted her life to. Some said the fly never got along with the spider, and yet here she was, at the end of her own road, promising a spider that she would return home safely.

As she felt the breaths begin to shallow, her heart begin to slow, she managed a smile, the smallest of smiles, as a send off to this Earth. This planet. So full of life, yet so full of destruction and fear, and terror. Before she let herself go into eternal rest, she held on just long enough to look up. She felt someone, miles and miles away, smiling. She felt that someone live. She felt that someone's heart. She wasn't afraid until that moment. The moment when her mind started to numb, when her vision started fading. Somehow, as if by a miracle, she crawled herself forward more, the light fading from her blue hues. It was pitiful, it was the saddest attempt she had made. She would give this moment hell. She clinched her teeth with what strength she had, lifting her hand into the air, hoping that by some wonderful event, it taken and she would pull out of this in one piece. She lived for _her,_ she lived for her dearest. She was greeted by air, and earth, and rain and... _desperation_. 

Her light was steadily fading, she was left with death, and death alone, her hand began to fall. She knew at this very moment, life would continue on but in different sense. That she would be a body at the bottom of a ravine, alone, dead. That she would be a skeleton, at the bottom of a ravine, alone. Either she had lost her mind, or death had indeed taken her. She felt a hand take her's a significantly stronger hand. She opened her eyes just enough, to gaze up, the once stinging rain, seemingly non-existent. It was as if an angel had taken her hand this time. She had been an angel this entire time, saving lives, giving to the poor, fighting for the right, doing her best to be what others lacked. Now she was being saved, by something that could not be described. The golden eyes that they carried were so familiar, and yet so distant. So full of fear and recollection, _but so far away_. 

" _ **Angela**?_ "


	2. Recollections

She could hear the rain, pelting upon a canvas surface, shivers rippling up and down her body as someone tended to her wounds. She squint her eyes, still hazy, still trying to return to her after all of that loss. It was a surprise she wasn't blind. She coughed, mud coming from her mouth. Oh that wasn't good.

"Do not worry. There will be help here soon."

That voice, so distant and yet she knew it was right next to her. She felt a cold chill run down her spine as she was out again. She hated the limbo one would go through during this time. Where your body would fight and fight and fight even when it was exhausted. It was miraculous.

A hand rubbed her cheek, the mud being spread around with it. She opened her eyes again, this time, her head in someone's lap.

"It will not be long."

She closed her eyes again, feeling oddly lulled by this, willingly falling into another state of unconciousness. A distorted voice echoed in her head, waking her into a half-asleep state.

"Amélie loved her."

"Is that so? Then I _shall love her in my own capacity when she is ready_."

The doctor awoke finally, her head aching as if someone had thrown boulders onto it. The pressure was stupid, however, her vision was clear and so was her hearing.

" _Salut._ "

The woman from earlier sat more clearly next to her, her arms folded to her chest. She appeared almost as a corpse, kissed by life again just as she was.

"You were tossed back together by our careless scientists." Came that cool voice again, ripping through the air like a blade.

" _E-Excuse me_?" Angela's voice came out quietly, tiredly, almost silently, the air so claustrophobic and heavy that she could barely even breathe.

Before any other words were spoken, the woman with yellow eyes held up the bloodied picture that she had kept in her hand before her expected expiration. " ** _Amélie Lacroix, no_**?"

Angela nodded, suddenly the fear for herself gone and replaced for fear for, the woman she loved.

"I am saddened to tell you this, but she was _murdered_ last month." The female sat forward, smirking almost as if she was proud of herself. But she remembered that she had to keep her physique. _Orders_.

"She was... murdered?" Angela was at a sudden loss for words, her eyes tearing up, her hearing starting to grow static. Then why was she saved? Why did she still draw breath? Why was she alive when the very thing she devoted her entire self to was gone? She was useless now anyway. Stuck somewhere remote, she guessed, away from people who could help. She was never one to give up-- _but her mind was numbed._

"I apologize for your loss." The mystery woman sighed, feeling a tinge of regret for her choice of words. _Odd._

"Who?" She quickly asked, her voice growing strength.

"Who killed her? Ah. I do not think you will enjoy the answer."

" ** _You_**?" Angela glared, her tears becoming angry, her lips down turning into an animalistic snarl. With what little strength she had, and sheer willpower, she sat upward, striking forward to grab the sniper's neck and hold it hostage. Her eyes cut holes into the alleged killer. Steadily she gazed into her yellow pools, trying to read her for all she was worth. She became lost, her grip starting to weaken, her heart racing just enough to cause dizziness. For the moment she was close, she began to understand.   
The woman at the other end of the choke hold kept calm, grabbing the doctor's hand.

" ** _Amélie_**?" She coughed, her body giving out on her, she was quickly lay back into bed by the woman she had just held in a strangle hold.

"Oui, in _small ways_." She rubbed at her throat, the dark blue almost purple after mark of Angela's hand remaining.

"What do you mean?" The doctor stared at her up and down, noticing everything similar and yet everything so sterile and meticulous.

"I am what remains of Amélie Lacroix. Her body, yes. Her mind? Non. Nothing. But yes, in a way, I am her and she is me."

"I don't understand." Angela stared blankly ahead, not once looking at the sniper. She was now afraid, very afraid. _What had they done to her? What had they done to the both of them_?

"If I remember correctly, you and I, were in... _love_." She commented too casually, remembering much more than that than she cared to say in the open.

"Who are you?" She asked carefully, turning to look behind her rather than at her.

"I have already told you." She hissed, hearing footsteps coming towards the room.

"Widowmaker, she is to rest in your personal quaters. This room is needed for a higher priority... guest. We will transport her immdiately."

Widowmaker. That title... no name, hung in her head like a blackout curtain, the sun not once sheading light on its meaning. Unless-- _**Amélie had been the one to kill her ill-relationship of a husband after Angela had left for Brazil.** _ She ignored the people moving her around, she ignored the wheelchair and the squeaky old wheels because they couldn't afford a hover-chair. She however didn't ignore the fact that when she looked in the reflection of the lift her eyes were red, and her face was seemingly cracked only on the left side. What on Earth had they done? The woman claiming to be the one she loved kissed her strangely cracked cheek in attempts to show affection yet her kisses only held anger and bitterness. 

She wondered if this was life after death, if she had died and ended up in some strange reality that was an afterlife. She had never really believed in such a thing, seeing as science could never really prove it, but maybe this is what it was. Yet another trial. 

She stared blankly at herself for the longest time until the doors slid open, yielding another long and sterile corridor. Her eyes drifted to her hands, goodness knows how many times she gnawed on her cuticles. Her heart nearly skipped a beat as she noticed another change. A "T" was freshly tattooed into her skin, her eyes widened. She was branded. As much as she wanted to exclaim in fear, she knew it would only yield more trouble. A gasp escaped her lips, the sniper turned to look down at her, her face knowing, her lips telling her to hush.

Why? That was the only question that lingered in her already discorded mind. Why? They stopped near a door, a very skinny door. It opened oddly, a darkened room sat behind, the sound of a torrent of water hitting rock and metal echoing in her ear. She was pushed into a another small entryway corridor, however this felt more residential. The door shut behind, suffocating the light from the room. Adjacent was a rounded rectangular window. Through a small slat in the blinds she could see story ocean waves, rain, and rock faces as far as the eye could see. She was pushed past into a living arrangement, unable to full grasp the outside world in time.

An almost living room. She looked around noticing familiar furniture pieces, it was interesting that they had ended up here. Lavish paintings dotted the walls, personal pictures existed however anyone recognizable had been scratched out, anyone but the doctor herself. She rose a brow, knowing only that she was remembered, but why? The sniper sat directly in front of her, putting one leg over the other. Casually gazing straight into her eyes. Angela looked around more, picking up on anything she could. The rug beneath had a slight wine stain to the corner, the wood floor was littered with furniture marks as if the furniture had been moved around dozens of times. Any tables had purple candles, smelling faintly of lavender and jasmine. She now quietly wondered, had it been more than a month? Her ability to process time was almost nonexistent.

"How long?" Were her first words after leaving the medical bay.

"Hm?" Widow questioned, looking away and then back at her again.

"How long was I really gone? Whatever... Whatever this is it didn't take a month. How long was I out, _Widowmaker_?"

A visible cringe over took her. Hearing the doctor say that name was so out of place to her although welcome all at the same time. "Do not be upset when I tell you the truth. You were in stasis for one year. It took a long time for them to fix you. Your eyes had gone blind by the time we got you back, your heart was a mess and your entire body was losing itself. They replaced your eyes with cybernetics. Your valves to strengthen your pre-existing heart, and the rest? _It was all redacted immediately._ "

The doctor grew lost, shaking her head. "A year?"

"Oui. I wasn't allowed to talk to you about it, in front of them. This is the only room that is not bugged, I assure you." She stood, crouching in front of her.

"And you don't have a clue as to what happened to me?" Her voice differed in pitch, heightening slightly in fear.

"Non." She was too prideful to admit they had released Angela because of her good behavior and had threatened to make her augmentations even worse if she hadn't complied.

"Who are they?" She asked in a small voice, almost knowing that they were something not good for this world.

"Talon. But that is all I can tell you. You have to trust me."

Angela nodded, visibly shaking now.

"Angela." The corpse of a woman began, her tone much different, her hand grabbing her cheek, her forehead touching her's, " ** _I missed you_**."


	3. Branded Memories

Her hand to her face, the chill leaving her breathless, speechless, unable to completely understand anything. It was as if snow had touched her, reality had smacked her, yet her love’s hand was another reminder. Angela struggled to take in full breaths, closing her eyes, the other’s forehead leaving her own. She hated this already, this feeling of longing for someone who was already gone. However, she began to believe that all was not lost. It was merely hiding from her, in plain sight yet sealed with a kiss. Her heart ached to the point that her body was magnetized to the woman. She moved forward as if possessed by love itself, putting a hand to her cheek in response, bringing her lips forward, the spider moved backward in response, almost afraid. Was she beaten? Abused? Prodded? She didn’t want to know; she didn’t want to even begin to formulate the thoughts.

She was left hanging in the air, the scared sniper leaning back, her eyes caught the miniscule amounts of light, the terror obvious even in her eyes. One moment she was a hardened sniper, another she was the love she remembered, and then she was a terrified _little girl._ What was she anymore? Widowmaker played dress up to appease her Talon superiors. She was their doll, and they made her do what they wanted. They played with her, tossed her around, twisted her mind until it was where they wanted it. She could be whatever they wanted, all it took was an aimless threat, something to make her fear for her life. Her existence was lies, her life was gone, she was used only for one purpose. That was, in fact, to kill and only kill. To destroy the light in other’s eyes so that Talon could have a foothold in the world. How pathetic, how pitiful? And now Angela sat, in a room darkened by lack of emotions and memories, with a “T” tattooed permanently into her skin, with her body falling apart and reforming instantaneously. Did they intend to use her as they had Amélie?   
  
Angela shivered at the thought, sitting back into the rickety excuse of a wheelchair. She sunk in, feeling her shoulders slump and usually great posture slipping into an arched mess. Widowmaker sat back down as well, the look of fear almost entirely erased, just like that. She had shut herself down again, and she could tell just by that that she did this often. Her emotions were merely a switch to turn on and off, or at least that’s what she liked to think. She pretended that she could have control of _some_ part of herself. That maybe if she could do that, she would stay sane. She would continue to be the same perfect ballerina in their horror show. Her eyes were drawn back to the other’s eyes. Dark bags, sunken eyes, sheer cheekbones, shaky hands, nervous tendency to bite her lip. She couldn’t just let her sit there like that, no, she had to do something.

She rose from her chair, her legs shaking, her body wanting to bring her down. She fought until she had taken a step towards her, she felt so far away. Another step, her hospital gown almost blowing back behind her, another step, her limbs felt as if they were aflame. Finally, she stood before her, attempting a smile, her lips twitching ever so slightly in excessive emotion. The sniper’s face grew fearful yet again, and yet she could tell it was a battle. The violin battled the sour noted trumpet. Wordlessly, she sat next to her, then without a moment’s hesitation she was grabbed by the stiff woman. Neither spoke for the longest time, for fear that speaking would break the moment into two parts. That was when the door was opened almost forcibly, the spider taking herself away from the doctor. The separation tugged at her heart, tears forming once more. She was a mess.  
  
Just as it hurt to be pulled away, she was pulled away again but this time by someone completely different.   
  
“ _Gabriel.”_ Widowmaker almost shrieked at her partner in crime, the man grabbing Angela like a plaything.

“ ** _Don’t worry yourself with her_**.” His voice was raspy, hissing, almost completely different to the last time she had heard it. “ ** _This has been waiting for her, for some time now_**.” He laughed afterward, the sound terrified her to the core.   
  
Angela was then dragged away down and out the door and into the hall. Not one person but her and the man with an owl mask. Darkness spawned from his body, leaking from his arms and hands and where his face would be.   
  
“ ** _Stop pretending to be something you aren’t_**.” He growled, holding a rusty halo that she once wore on her head, he crushed it in his hand.   
  
“Gabriel, what are—what happened to you?” She stammered, his hands not once loosening on her.

“ ** _You brought me back to life when I was already gone.”_** He threw her onto the concrete against the wall, her head screaming in more pain. She would surely die if he went through with this. She was weak to begin with, why was this happening? “ ** _They nailed this new face into my head. They told me it was punishment for keeping me alive.”_**  
  
“ _W_ -“She couldn’t speak, she was struck in the face by his fist.   
  
“ ** _I can’t hold her anymore. She thinks her papi is dead.”_** He struck another blow, the other’s lip beginning to bleed, her body reacting to this strangely.

“Gabriel—I-I didn’t mean for you to—“   
  
He began wailing on her, not letting up, she was afraid, so very afraid. Nothing would prepare her for the next moments. Just as she thought she was going to be out again she heard the voice of Widow echo behind them. She let out a growl, clinching her fist. Her body dispersed into a violent blood red and black mist. Seconds later she rematerialized behind him. The man stopped, turned around and stared at her, disbelieving and yet enthusiasm and amusement littering his physique. Silence turned to howling laughter, the man was amused. So amused in fact that he stopped the attack all together.   
  
“ ** _You and I, we are one in the same._** ” He walked to her again, grabbing her chin, holding it tightly. “ ** _You deserved your own gift_**.” He let her go, the force making her stumble backward.  
  
Angela stood stunned as the man vanished into darkness, leaving her and Widowmaker alone yet again.

“You—“The sniper began, stepping back. “ _They didn’t_.”  
  
A woman with purple hair appeared before them, nodding, “ _They did.”_ She held her finger to her lips, looking at the two of them with the utmost urgency. “Now, how’s about we go in there. To discuss business. _Don’t ask questions_ , you’d be better off that way.” She put her hand behind Angela’s back, ushering her into the small room.   
  
Fear clung to her lungs, her eyes full of every emotion known to man. The man known as Gabriel Reyes had attempted to beat her to a pulp for the things she did long ago, her body had become a wraith and then pieced itself back together, a woman with purple eyes had just told her to not ask questions and the woman she loved was afraid. Confusion pulsated within her brain, anger rose from Widowmaker. So many questions piled up in her head, waiting to be answered.


	4. Insight

Hours of questions, hours of answers that didn’t add up or make sense. She was stuck between two walks of life, without a way free. Upon knowing this new look into what her life would be, now, she wanted a way out. However, as told thousands of times throughout the conversation, there was no way out whatsoever. Talon would grab its victims and turn them to puppets overnight. Each operative was a new weapon at their disposal. With that in mind, the days following this encounter would only get worse.  
  
After the day she awoke, she never once slept. She was forced awake by the stimulants in the air. Food? Became an abnormality. Days turned to weeks, and each week she grew in strength and was trained harder. Somedays she would return to rest and her hands and feet would be numb from excessive and grueling exercises. She was forced to train against people Talon named “Guests” in which people who were highly defenseless were called upon. Where if she didn’t comply she would be beaten or at worst, reprogrammed just as Widowmaker had been. They would shoot them, and she would resurrect them. Scientists, more like savages, always studied intently when she did this action, modifying her staff. Soon enough resurrections turned into enthrallments, and she was given slaves. She was horrified to say the least. Having a group of people that were alive just as her normal resurrections, but absolutely in debt to her, was the scariest thing she had been subjected to.

Every evening they forced her to be dosed with something that even she didn’t understand and with every evening she would lose touch. It became harder every day to feel anything whatsoever. Sombra would hold her hand during these sessions, seeing as she was the only one allowed in. She couldn’t feel her body at times, and soon enough she was being shipped off to assassinations with the sniper, of which, she couldn’t once feel a thing for, no matter how much she wanted to. Watching as presumably innocent people died, resurrecting them for use with Talon and then fully capturing them. It really destroyed a person, especially one who had a usually strong will.  
  
After their missions, Widowmaker would hold Angela to her chest, stroking her head, rocking her back in forth, whispering sweet nothings in French into her ear, kissing her to remind her that she was still there. The treatments ended, leaving her numb as ever, and the sniper continued to remind her that it would wear off soon and that she didn’t have to worry.  
  
Somedays Angela was stuck in the prison wing, acting as a warden to coax the prisoners into calming down. Anytime she left they would return to normal, but when she would return, they would come to her side as if she were a goddess, an evil _evil_ goddess. Deep hate bore holes into her heart, her mind twisting until she was just as the spider and just as the reaper. Dark Valkyrie, Dusk, Darkheart, were some of the names they called her. She was no longer Mercy. _She was merciless_. She fell from grace. To reduce the pain, she tried to convince herself that Talon was just, that it wasn’t a deathtrap full of manipulation and power hunger.

The hacker would comfort her at night when the spider could not. Sombra too had been forced to the treatments long ago, recovering secretly by administering her own antidote in which she began giving the doctor. With each day the doctor would cry for her to stop, the emotions too much for her to handle given all of the awful things she had done due to their heavy hold on her mind. Her body reacted to this antidote as if it were a poison, however it slowly began to work, yet she hid it behind a porcelain face.

She grew to love those enthralled to her, showing them kindness rather than brutality as the prison guards did. Just as she showed kindness, she learned their names and identities, and knowing each would free her from the binds placed upon her ever so slowly. She was regaining her wings. Each person made her feel more human than wraith-hybrid. She began to feel like _Mercy_ again. That love, that love she had so deeply in her chest, formed again, Widowmaker, _she loved her_. Oh how she loved her. To steady herself again, she believed in that with all of her being, to keep herself from losing anymore sanity. _She would **kill** anyone who mistreat her love._  
  
\--  
Angela sat on the ledge of the unused docking bay, feet hanging off over the abyss. She felt a hand become sat on her shoulder, a very strong hand, very steady. She looked up cooly, noting the owl masked male. His words deeply surprised her.  
  
“ ** _I am proud of you, Doctor Ziegler.”_** His rough voice hit her directly in the heart.  
  
“Proud of me? Why would that be, **_my dearest Reaper_**?” She asked in a rather amused tone, looking back off into the sunrise.  
  
“ ** _You aren’t playing dress-up this time. You’re the real deal.”_** His laugh, oh his laugh, it used to make her shiver and squirm, but now it was boring and almost normal.  
  
She laughed in return, shaking her head. She grabbed the helm from the side of her, putting it back on to mask the brutally cracked top portion of her face, smoke already leeching from her. “That I am.” She scoot backwards, standing up and next to him, the orange light of the sun eerily cast reflections onto her dark armor clad body.  
  
“ ** _Today you will prove yourself to me.”_** As he said this, he repositioned himself to a ledge above. “ ** _Today you will kill, Lena Oxton. And she will be our puppet. You are the Queen in our chess set.”_**

Angela nodded, hiding the gnawing fear and sadness she felt. She squirmed internally, her heart aching. The two black mechanical wings at her back folded to her, the orange glow almost brighter than that of the early morning sun. Today she would be in London, not to see her old friend, but to murder and enthrall her. _How lovely._ What a **grand** reunion.

\--

As she boarded the dropship with her new team, she felt sick, although she hid it with a forced smirk. The doctor checked her pistol, then her long and crooked spear-ended staff that had a long piece of obsidian to the end.  
  
When they arrived in London, it was raining and the wind was howling, why on Earth was the weather like this? It was as if it reacted prematurely to the event that was about to occur, this crime. _This horrid crime._ She shivered at the thought of it, but now, she had to go through with it.  
  
Soon enough they had landed, leaving the four of them alone. The hacker, the spider, the reaper and the angel that had fallen from grace. Two cursed with powers that neither of them could understand, a broken woman and a woman turned partially machine.

They split, the spider and her fly to the east and the hacker and the reaper to the west. Sombra quickly tapped into the poster girl’s communication lines, Angela picking up her communicator on the opposite end to call.

“Hello?” The brit answered in a rather cheery tone, ignorant to the fact that a sniper rifle was being pointed at her girlfriend’s head.

“Hello, Lena. It’s been a long time!” Angela faked a cheery tone, her heart sinking into a pit of despair.

“Oi Angela! I haven’t heard from you in ages, are you doin’ okay, luv?” She answered, a smile evident in her voice.

“Ja! I’m doing just fine.” She wanted to punch herself, wipe the lies from her face and body. “However, you are not.”  
  
“Whatcha’ mean luv?” Lena asked, looking to her left to notice the fear in her girlfriend’s eyes.

“Come out to the roof, _liebling_. I have something to offer.” She hung up shortly afterward, her heartbeat overtaking her ability to hear. Her voice was laced with sadness, but she shoved it down, attempting not to cry.

The brit did as she was told, appearing on the roof sometime later, the three of them moved in, bottlenecking her to a pad of the roof.

“A-Angela?” Tracer asked, looking from one to the next to the next. “Oi, I should’ve known. You Talon type like to hold people hostage an’ then lure them places. Good thing you can’t catch me.” One of the four was missing, Reaper. The door to the roof opened, Emily in his arms.

Angela’s eyes flicked to him, tears welling in her eyes. Why did Talon go to such extents? She bit back her tears, hiding it all behind another well placed smirk. She felt her heart starting to break.  
  
“ ** _If you don’t come with us, two lives will be taken today_**.” Reaper held one of his guns to her head, he raised his head up, an imaginary smirk appearing.

“That’s not fair!” She hissed, stamping her foot, the reaper walking closer to them.  
  
“Life isn’t fair, **_Liebling_**.” Angela said, her voice equivalent to a snake’s. She cringed at her own words, but had to. It wasn’t fair _. Not even to her._

“D-Doctor Ziegler?” She asked in a petrified voice, a tone not her own. “Why? **_Why_**?!”

The girl shifted forward, the click of a gun being cocked, the sound of a sniper being focused. In this moment, time stood still, she instinctively moved her staff forward, the bladed portion directed towards her once greatest ally. Before she knew it she had stabbed it straight through…. **_Emily._**

  
  



	5. Embers

 

The fear in Emily’s eyes was enough to cut through her heart. Reaper laughed, Widowmaker hopped back strategically, the girl with the time abilities stopped mid-motion, her eyes widening. Angela didn’t know what to do, she didn’t want to do anything. She was standing there, with the redhead’s life in her hands, the girl that looked up to her, the girl that didn’t ever think she would die because of _Angela Ziegler._

She moved backward, crudely pulling the staff out. A gunshot wailed out behind her, striking the time traveler straight in the chest.

Angela’s eyes widened as the two that loved one another fell to the earth with a sickening clatter. Blood pooled beneath them, their eyes starting to glass as Lena was too shocked to recall. She instinctively held her dying girlfriend, the other starting to fade already. Wailing. Pure wailing. She heard it enter her ears, shocking her. As one died, the other wailed louder, and then they were silenced. Angela’s hands shook, her body shaking with it, tears streaking down her cheeks. Sombra looked at her, _urging_ her to reresurrect. She didn’t want to. She didn’t want to do that to those two. She did anyway—She rose her hand, her staff, a harsh orange glow filling the two bodies on the ground, then they were upright, the glow resonating until both stood before her, smiling at her with blood staining their chests and bodies as a whole.

Their eyes were foggy, their smiles fake and forced. She set her bloodied staff down, feeling her stomach begin to give.

“Y-You two, with me.” She shakily said, then with a quiet whisper she said, “We’re ready.” Her hand left her ear, the roar of an incoming drop ship on the horizon.

The two women walked up to Angela, gazing at her as if she were a god. “We are forever in your debt, Ma’am.” Lena said, tears obvious in her eyes still. **_Hold on, Lena. Please._**

Widowmaker’s hand delicately pat her back, leaving her speechless and confused and stunned.

\--

When they arrived back at base, a man with a long tailcoat appeared. He wore a golden “T” on the collar of his shirt, a lengthy black tie and a dark red velvet vest. He almost looked like a magician, however a very demented magician. He clapped when they stepped off board.   
  
“Congratulations, Doctor Ziegler. You have been promoted. Thanks to your successful claim of Lena Oxton, and the added bonus surprise. You have been rewarded handsomely. However, you, _Ms. Lacroix_ , are now unfortunately not needed anymore.” He put his hands to his sides, a thinly lined smile appearing onto his snaking lips. He snapped, knowing that the spider would put up a fight if she were to know. Before Angela could speak the woman was on the ground, paralyzed, twitching ever so slightly, and just like that, as if a candle were blown out, she was dead.

**_Death takes and takes and takes. For instances in time one can see clearly into the next room,  
Sometimes life vanishes from beneath you like a tablecloth being forcibly taken from a table,_ **

A shot rang out, a clear shot.

“Oh Doctor Zigler. I didn’t expect _that_. Now, there’s a surprise.” He chuckled, his head being blown clean off by the pistol placed beneath his chin. His body toppled over eerily, thudding to the ground. The guards before them grew violent, thrusting themselves forward into action, guns blazing.  
  
Angela ran through the gun fire, hearing the hacker scoff her and the reaper laugh in delight as he began to turn on his own men. As she ran, she didn’t once look back, counting the seconds precisely, counting until she could no longer resurrect her love without issues. The screams of horror and gunfire continued as she moved throughout the building. With nowhere in absolute mind, she ran to the prison wing, breaking into the control booth, killing all who stood in her way. She didn’t care anymore. **_She didn’t. Care._** She slammed open all of the cells, prisoners walking out in confusion until she appeared at the center of the room. She was surrounded by hundreds of men and women, some capable and some weak, some half mutilated, some completely unscathed. **_Whoever they were, no she knew, she knew each of their names._**

“Fight for me, **_my dears_**.” She rose her hands, exclaiming this in a commanding tone, each coming at the ready. She ran forward, back to the drop ship, the entire crowd following her, the sound deafening.

**_She would rise up from the ashes._ **

Screams of rage and fear and sadness came from their throats, the ratio of thralls to guards was overwhelming. She jumped from the upper level, slamming her staff down at if it commanded the winds, the ground lighting up, the woman dead on the ground raising. She let out a scream of outrage, of pain, of everything she had felt in the past months, of every single feeling she masked and held behind a wall. She shattered the wall, she shattered herself in the process, the guards dying like falling dominoes until she was left in the middle of a mess. Thralls stood around her forming a circle, the reaper, the spider, the hacker, and the British lovers stood behind them, gazing at her with fear, admiration and a strange excitement.

**_She rose her hand up, and in one single motion, she snapped, each thrall collapsing._ **

The bay door opened, revealing the sunset, the light cast upon all of them. She appeared as if she were a cult leader, performing some strange ritual. Sombra and Reaper stared at her, transfixed by her strange motions as the blood covered doctor spoke only two words.  
  
“ ** _Be free_**.”

Freedom, the word that everyone fought for, for an ideal created by man. The idea that people could walk the Earth without fear of prejudice and of being condemned or controlled by an omnipotent minded human individual. The very thing Angela Ziegler longed to have across the world other than peace and harmony.

Love, the other thing she wanted so very badly. To love the woman who never shook out of her thoughts. She moved forward through the crowds of people who lay on the ground, waking from a trance that she had created. She walked to her, leaning down over her, grabbing her into her arms, holding her close to her chest, kissing her upon her face, stroking her head. She was finally reunited with her **Amélie.**

Each person began to wake up. Tomorrow would be a new day, tomorrow would be a day without Talon’s usual strength. Tomorrow would be…

**_Free._ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This could become a mini series continued alongside the blackbird trilogy.


End file.
